


Two Birds

by AlertsDontExist



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Doc's definitely going to notice, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Memory Alteration, Oblivious, Road Trips, Slow Burn, Tags to be added, Temporary Amnesia, because human emotions are hard, but he's still confused, every single one of these chapters is going to be rewritten like 8 times and nobody can stop me, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23629420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlertsDontExist/pseuds/AlertsDontExist
Summary: Robotnik disappeared one day, without a trace, and the government did a perfect job completely erasing him from existence. Except for one tiny problem. You can't erase someone who still exists. Especially when the clueless agent still helps him out, despite not knowing a single thing about the guy.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik & Agent Stone, Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 20
Kudos: 74





	1. Kill Two with One | Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated, and I am always open to suggestions and excited to see what y'all think! Please keep criticism constructive.

It’s dark.

That’s the first thing to come back. 

It’s cold and it’s dark and he should’ve been back by now. 

Waking up strapped to a table and surrounded by voices and movement should have been enough of a clue, but that didn’t matter so much as figuring out what was happening in the immediate moment. The blindfold was thick enough that it was impossible to pinpoint exactly where they were, but thin enough to let a good amount of light through, much of which was flickering from the activity beyond it. A gag filled his mouth too much to close it, the fabric irritating the areas near the back of his throat, almost -  _ almost _ \- convincing him to cough. All this while his boss was probably back at the mobile lab, looking around irritably and checking his watch, impatiently pacing as he held the limp, blue body inattentively in his free hand.

But for the moment, Agent Aban Lee Stone was strapped to a cold metal table, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, yet still, somehow, unafraid. A stranger’s clammy hands began checking the restraints, finally removing the blindfold, revealing a younger-looking soldier that refused to meet his eyes. Stone blinked unsteadily in the harsh light, hissing as the soldier stepped back and the main overhead shone directly into his eyes. Eventually, his vision cleared enough for him to get a good look at the space. 

Calling it a room was generous. It was more of a hastily-constructed emergency bunker. Dingy lamps with too-bright bulbs, still somehow brown in color, hanging from little more than their wiring halfway to the floor; chipped concrete walls with enough cracks to let dirt and plants spill through, coating the floor; and a sour smell something akin to that of sulfur and rot. Stone was in the very center, with about two feet between him and the walls on either side and maybe three feet front and back. Alongside the Major General near the center with Stone, all four walls were lined with soldiers every few feet, allowing for 10 guards in the room. 

The Major General glanced down at Stone, who replied with an even stare, hoping the sinking feeling in his gut wasn’t bleeding through to his expression. This all seemed very extravagant, and they hadn’t even told him what he was here for. It could be some sort of new training exercise, but that didn’t make sense either. None of this did. He’d been organizing things in the lab and cleaning up for when Doctor Robotnik would return and had stepped outside for a moment to remove some old, unnecessary files. There was a sharp pain in the back of his neck, a blunt  _ thud _ on the back of his head, and he woke up here. Too much wasn’t adding up.

Stone tried to keep his expression neutral - the Doctor would get him out of here, no question. He always knew where his assistant was, and _never_ liked to be kept waiting. Anyone who made the mistake of touching anything belonging to him without his _express_ permission was dealt with quickly and never made the same mistake twice. 

Any moment now, he’d come storming in, mustache twitching and face twisted in rage, demanding to know exactly what this crew of sand-swallowing, beached scallops wanted with his Agent. He’d cut them off before anyone got a chance to answer, shoving them all aside so he could glare daggers at the Major General himself as he ripped apart the restraints and swept out of the room with Agent Stone following closely at his heel. He would burst into one of his furious rants as soon as they got outside, going on about how they all thought that they could just grab Stone on a whim like he had nothing better to do, or how he was incredibly busy (and now behind schedule as well) and actually  _ needed  _ his assistant on today of all days, and why  _ exactly  _ they thought they were allowed to touch him. Stone would simply listen quietly, mostly staying out of the Doctor’s way until he ran himself out of breath and demanded Stone go and grab them both another coffee since  _ apparently, they’re staying the night now due to these hare-brained imbeciles _ .

But the Doctor doesn’t come. The doors stay stubbornly shut and there’s not a sound in the room above the buzzing of the lights overhead and the muted voices of soldiers beyond the wall setting up... whatever it is they plan to do. Doctor Robotnik isn’t here. Stone got the general instead. Major General Nobody. That sinking feeling in his stomach was growing now into a gnawing, panicked ache. He’d known something was off from the very beginning, but now he could tell something was very, very wrong. 

The cool metal disks were a disturbing sort of comfort in the hot, sweaty room as they were attached to his skin. Mostly his head, but spread out over a few other major neural communication sites as well. The table was raised so he was no longer laying flat, rather upright, yet still reclining, like some kind of test subject or Frankenstein’s monster. The sound of something powering up beyond the door was loud and sudden, squealing like a bad motor, but showing no signs of slowing down or breaking. Apparently, everything was in order. 

Major General Nobody nodded to one of the guards standing at the door, who took this cue to knock and presumably start whatever all this was from behind the wall. The general turned back to Stone and almost looked... sorry? Something in his face betrayed him for a moment, and he opened his mouth as though he wanted to speak. He changed his mind, expression hardening once more, and stepped back.

“It’s nothing personal, son. Just business. A necessary evil.” Spoken as though the words were meant to be comforting, though Stone couldn’t imagine how.

The general said only one more thing that day. He said the name of Doctor Ivo Robotnik. 

He named only the Doctor’s title and last name (given that the first was purposefully left out of all documents and introductions, seen by the bearer as ‘unnecessary’ and ‘too personal to give out to any random stranger on the street’). Stone was amused to recall this particular point, despite the situation. 

His main emotion for the moment, however, was merely confusion. Was he here? Was Robotnik on the other side of that wall? It was impossible at best - the man worked with no one. So why speak his name?

Stone was barely touched by these questions when the first shock tore through him. White-hot pain engulfed him all at once, cutting off all cohesive thought instantly, so he could do nothing more than stiffen up and scream involuntarily, though most of the sound was absorbed by the gag. Shocked tears gathered behind Stone’s eyes, stinging as he clenched them shut and shrank in on himself in some desperate attempt to escape.

The electricity tapered after a moment, not cutting off completely, but lessening enough for Stone to take a breath and focus. The general watched him closely and saw Stone begin to regain his bearings. He leaned in and said Robotnik’s name again, prompting many the same thoughts as before, but this time much simpler:  _ Why? _

_ Why would they say his name and nothing else? Is there something they’re trying to get from me? He works for them - they already have everything! There’s nothing I can give that would be of any use! ... not that I would give anything up to begin with. Even if I did, they wouldn’t have that information long enough to actually  _ do _ anything with it, he’d have their heads before they could even tell each other that they knew something.  _

Stone carded through as many memories as he could manage, trying to deduce exactly what it was they wanted. He’d spent so much time with Robotnik, but nothing was of any use to them. He recalled his first meeting with the Doctor, being assigned to him as his personal Agent, seeing the Badniks for the first time, and helping with work on the prototype ship. He recalled, too, just before the Doctor flew off to go fight that creature when Stone tried to say goodbye and Robotnik had--

Thoughts were cut short once more as another bolt of electric shock pulsed through his body. It was more powerful than the last one, forcing all of Stone’s muscles to contract and his head to start pounding from repeating the same process as before. His head swayed back and forth in a sort of twisted impression of shaking it. Not that he noticed. The shock was shorter this time, but still left Stone shuddering when it let up, tears clouding his vision as they started to pool in his eyes. He felt his face begin to turn red and puffy, heating up more in the already overcrowded room.

The general leaned in again and intoned Robotnik’s name for the third time, lowly, and still meeting Stone’s eyes.

_ They haven’t asked anything of me, why do they keep saying it? They’re not giving me anything to do, it’s like they just want me to focus-- _

The shock was back, but somehow Stone didn’t feel as much this time. He realized what was happening and his whole world dropped out under him in an instant. 

He felt sick. 

No. 

_ No.  _

It _ wasn’t true.  _ It  _ couldn’t  _ be.

Doctor Robotnik was fine, and he was probably already on his way back. He had won his fight with that little blue rat he’d been obsessed with for the past few weeks, and he was in the ship right now, probably furious that Stone had left the lab, especially when they had so much work to do. 

What a beautiful lie. 

The Doctor was nothing if not deadly efficient. He was precise, swift, and lethal in the execution of all things, be it a fight to the death or a simple conversation. He’d left  _ hours  _ ago, and that ship was fast. No, something was very wrong and the mad genius Doctor Ivo Robotnik was not coming home. Not this time. 

He felt the strain starting to set into his muscles, but also found he really didn’t care. Agent Stone was without his Doctor and there was nothing in the world that hurt more than the hollow shell where he was sure his heart had been just a few moments ago. He knew he should be groaning in pain, feeling the soreness and tightness from a series of high-powered electrical shocks delivered directly to his flesh and nervous system. But at the moment it was a minor pinch in his mind. 

He laid like that for hours: muscles seizing up as he tried to curl into a ball as best he could while strapped to a table, then slowly loosening in the short moments between, and probably feeling less than half of it with blank, empty eyes that never really seemed to blink as much as they did wash themselves in tears. 

Each time the shocks would start up again, the general would lean in close to Stone and say the Doctor’s name. Over and over again, only stopping when the electricity did, forcing Stone, as much as he tried to resist, to focus on Robotnik. Every memory built with him, for him,  _ because  _ of him, and they were trying to take all of that away. Four years of his life, and they were trying to make him think it never existed.

A steady determination grew as the hours wore on.  _ It wasn’t going to happen _ , he decided.  _ Nobody  _ was going to take his Doctor away from him. They could shock him, hurt him, and do whatever they damn well pleased. He wasn’t giving in. He was going to endure and fight through this until he got out with every memory fully intact. No matter how long it was going to take.

_ For you Ivo. I do this for you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real set schedule, but I'm trying to keep it weekly. Either way, I swear on my life I'm trying to get them to y'all as quickly as possible! I'll try to keep a few chapters ahead so it doesn't go completely off the rails. This prologue was really fun and Chapter 1 is undergoing edits now, so thank you for reading in the meantime!


	2. Robotic Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For social reasons, synthetic voice proves suboptimal as a communication medium.

“Hi, my name is Daniel Stone for Green Hills Electronics. Can I interest you in some of our latest offers today?”

He smiled like it was the easiest thing in the world. Which, really? Why wouldn’t it be? It had already been a wonderful morning. The walk was nice, and it was only a few short blocks anyway, so the chill didn’t cut through the many layers quite so badly. His face still tingled with the cold when he walked in though. The leaves had long since fallen and found their way into the streets, shining wetly under puddles of dirty water and cracked ice. The few remaining untouched piles of snow glittered from the light as he passed by, catching the eyes of early-waking children who ran to it and pounced, faces already bright rosy red and laughing. 

Stone spun his small cup as he waited through another caller’s voicemail, not really listening and having absently counted the number of rings. The cup was a keepsake from a pottery class he’d taken with Irene not long after they’d started dating. It was a misshapen, garish looking thing, but the bright colors were a stark difference to the rest of the office, which he found to be a very welcome distraction.

Everything else was mind-numbing tans and browns, except for Lidya, at the front desk, draped as always in busy designs of a dozen different colors. Appalling really, that he’d nearly managed to walk by her desk this morning without saying hello! She was hidden underneath it at the time, likely looking for a new crossword book having finished her last. She popped up just a second later, waving and greeting Stone in that kindly tone. 

She was rather infamous for her attitude. Always cheery, always positive, and never had a bad word for anyone. She was like most people here, actually. They spent so much time together, going for lunches and watching games, and everyone always seemed so happy to see each other! This, more than anything, was why Stone kept working here. Even over the phone, folks tended to be agreeable. Even if they were unhappy, it was quite rare that anyone was simply  _ rude.  _ Stone believed fully that this was perfect. It was such a waste of good energy to be rude! And raising one’s voice never made anything work any better, no matter how much they hit it with his glove. 

Stone talked cheerfully with a number of other coworkers over lunch, and they even were joined by his boss for a while. She wasn’t a rare sight around the office, but still worked hard so it was difficult to find time-off that matched up. Everyone loved her anyway, given her flexibility around schedules and her generally sweet demeanor. Stone had yet to meet anyone who had a single bad thing to say about her. He couldn’t believe he was so lucky to have such a great employer - what a score!

Back at the office after lunch, Stone tried to make it through a few more phone calls before he mind drifted again. Not that he was inherently bored, but it would certainly be a lot easier to focus if people just picked up their phones! True, he was an unknown number and thus folks were wary to begin with, but it would be nice to have something to break up the monotony sometimes. There were still plenty of folks that picked up in between, and quite a few that actually made it past the ‘hello’s, but still, most of them felt pretty much the same. 

He always felt the same at the end of each day. The routine started to weigh on him a bit and Stone found he just wanted to go home and rest for a while. Luckily, the time that idea really started to take hold was about the time Stone was done for the day anyway. He put the pens back in the cup, hung up the phone for the last time, and grabbed his coats again on the way out the door, waving to Lidya with a smile. The walk home was much warmer, so he didn’t need all the layers this time, and the bootprints that scattered the sidewalks were partially melted, leaving a mess of half-there tracks all the way down the street. It made Stone smile, knowing how busy everyone around town must have been today to leave all these prints. Everyone was moving about, in their individual lives, coming from somewhere and going somewhere else. Just like they did every other day.

The routine was always the same. Every day for the past 15 years. Taken in as an intern fresh out of high-school, then hired full-time after sticking with it for almost 2 years. Since then he’d slowly climbed through the ranks and had even been named employee of the month a few different times. The company had eventually moved out to Green Hills, and Stone, perfectly happy with his newly-promoted position, had elected to move with them. 

Over time, he grew fond of the town, small as it was. Something about it seemed almost charming, in a way. The people were all very close here, and all quite kind, but Stone had a hunch what drew him here more than anything else was the atmosphere. It was very distant, but there was something in the streets whenever they were empty. Stone had stepped outside once when the traffic was low and could’ve sworn he heard the distant sounds of shattering glass. He walked over where he knew the sound came from, but nothing had broken, and the streets were as clean as ever. The feeling was only there when he was alone. There was something about it, but he could never place exactly what. 

Either way, he never liked to dwell on things for too long. He was happy here. He had his girlfriend, his job, and his routine. Simple. Nothing challenging or strange; nothing new or exciting; no experiments or shiny robot drones; and nothing at all unpredictable in any sense of the word. Just a small, ordinary town with lots of nice, plain people. 

He pushed down the voice that said it was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this one's short. But worldbuilding! And I promise long ones are coming! (Seriously this was about a page and a half, and so far chapter 4 is at nine. It's fun.) Anyway, rules here are pretty fast and loose so I'm stretching just a bit into cartoon logic. No, he hasn't really worked there that long, but false memories and all that. Chapter titles are based in robotics (namely features).


	3. Social Intelligence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One learns to complete a task or achieve a goal by observing and copying given, pre-determined examples, while the observer has no previous knowledge of the subject.

The next day didn’t appear different from any other, at first. It passed quietly, by answering phones and talking with people (or trying to, anyway). Everyone still said their hellos and joked around lunch, and the coffee table during break was as busy as ever. But even with all that, Stone found himself pulling his awareness out of his own head all day. If anyone had asked, he couldn’t remember a single thing he’d talked about since he'd walked in that morning. It all went right through him and disappeared. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, though. Why should he? There was nothing new happening, and nothing had ever come of it before. There was no need to think any more on it.

As usual, the walk home had him carrying an extra coat in hand, though pondering whether or not to put it on, given the darkening sky and strengthening wind. He decided rather quickly once his breath began to fog in front of him and the chill started to seep into his stiffening fingers. He hoped Irene made it okay, she was supposed to come over tonight for dinner and was more than likely already there. Stone quickened the pace, eager at the prospect of the warm house awaiting him, good food, and warm drinks…

Or, he would’ve walked faster if a glimpse of movement in the shadows hadn’t caught his eye. It wasn’t hiding, per se, but sure didn’t seem to intend to make itself known. A single, silent mass, unmoving outside of an abandoned government compound, that apparently blended in well enough to go unnoticed. Stone eyed it warily as he backed closer to the curb. The figure edged closer to the road, head swiveling as though lost or awaiting someone who was quite late. They were tall, or at least would have been had they stood to their full height, rather than slouching and rounding their shoulders and letting their knees bent just enough that the top of the figure’s head reached to about Stone’s nose. They didn’t appear to be very well dressed either, especially for this weather, not to mention whatever they were wearing nearly unusable.

The figure still hadn’t seen Stone yet, and the rational part of his mind told him to do the smart thing and keep walking. There’s no telling who this person was (probably a druggie or a dealer of some kind. Best case scenario, even if this really wasn't the town for that kind of business.), and it would be much better to just ignore them and keep moving on.

He usually listened to that part.

But something else was urging him to go over.

Go talk to the figure. At least make sure they were okay. 

That something wasn’t usually so loud.

Or so insistent.

So, for the first time in a long while, Stone decided to do something purely from impulse. How odd. He didn’t recall it ever making his heart skip a beat before now. He moved towards the figure.

The shadow still stood, mostly motionless now, in front of the old government testing site that had been used ages ago when Stone had first moved to town to test new technology and small experiments that didn’t affect the populace. Sometimes. He wasn’t sure exactly when they’d boarded it all up, but there was always talk of a weird  _ thing  _ that happened much earlier at the beginning of the year that must’ve been the cause. Strange how Stone couldn’t for the life of him recall what that happening might’ve been. He was probably on vacation.

“Hey, are you okay?” He slowed his approach, circling to the side so as not to startle the figure. No response at first, so he tried again. “Sir, are you alright?”

The head hardly moved, as if doing so wasn’t nearly worth the effort, but Stone felt sure the figure saw him. They then rolled their eyes with an exhausted sigh, turning their red nose up at Stone with naught but a twitch of the absurdly large and bushy mustache that seemed to float above their upper lip. The cracked, red goggles reflected the fading sunlight as they returned to scanning the landscape. The man didn’t seem to hold Stone as friend or foe, but rather an annoyance, as if people coming up to him in the street was a frequent occurrence. 

“Agent Stone,” the stranger jeered, tight and mocking, “how  _ nice _ of you to drop by.” His voice was rough and high, crackling as though his vocal cords were exhausted from constant speech. “I thought you might have picked up on the hint sometime in the last  _ six-hundred and twenty-four _ times I’ve told you to  _ go away _ , but it would seem hoping for someone as stupid as a human like you to grow even one singular functioning ear is a fruitless endeavor! A brain as oblivious as yours could never understand, could you? No, useless. Totally, utterly bootless as usual.”

Stone was frozen; dumbstruck at the aggressive outburst, more than a little disturbed that the man apparently knew at least his last name, and already decided that he would much rather just turn around and keep on his way. Leave someone else to deal with this. Pay no more attention to the itch in his brain that told him to help the guy anyway. The man turned back around, sighing with a shake of his head, and started hesitantly trudging off down the sidewalk, slowly sliding one foot forward as though testing the ground in front of him. He rubbed his arms and shivered, and Stone’s will gave way.

He placed a hand on the stranger’s shoulder.

“Look, I may not know who you are or what you’re talking about, but I do know that you shouldn’t be outside during winter, especially at night. I can’t leave you here without at least inviting you to dinner. Or to taste some of my girlfriend’s hot chocolate. Best you'll ever have! Anything to warm you up a little. Come on - it’s not far.”

The man had stiffened like a board the instant Stone had put his hand on his shoulder, but made no movements otherwise. Slowly, as he was talking, Stone had lifted his palm, about to apologize when the stranger spun around suddenly, grabbing at the retreating hand like a snake. His goggles had been pushed up, revealing heavy lines over dull eyes where they had been. He was white as a sheet and turned Stone’s hand over and over as though inspecting it, digging his nails in and holding it so tightly Stone wasn’t sure he would be able to take it back even if he wanted to. 

The stranger’s hands were shaking. Not from the cold though, the rest of him was steady. 

Stone stuttered an apology, he really didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to, it was just an offer and- those dull brown eyes were different now. Alert, attentive, looking Stone up and down with what he hoped was a ghost of a barely hidden grin. The rough, well-worn gloves brought Stone’s attention back to his hands. The grip had loosened now, though still the gloves scratched over Stone’s skin as the stranger continued testing his hands for... something. It was a wonder the gloves were intact at all, he noted. They looked to be very old. Dusty, thin, and almost as shredded as the rest of the stranger’s clothing. Especially in the palms.

After another moment, Stone took his hand back, pulling the stranger’s focus back to his face. The calculated look washed over something else, hidden in shadow beneath the lamppost before Stone could really see it, but schooled itself quickly into a bad-tempered sneer. 

“A girlfriend.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, though it seemed to be one anyway. Stone wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, so he settled on a nod and beckoned the stranger to follow him. 

He could feel the man staring at him the whole way back. He seemed to be completely out of his mind which wasn’t something Stone knew how to deal with in the slightest, but he didn’t seem dangerous - just lost and a little off-putting - so Stone figured he may as well try anyway. He’d met his fair share of interesting characters, sure, but something about this one was... different somehow.

It was probably the mustache.

If Stone had been offered money, he doubted he could name a single normal-looking thing about the guy. Well, except for the bald head. But even that had snatches of hair growing out in random places over the minuscule fuzz determining the last “haircut” had to have been at least a few weeks ago. That was definitely the most normal looking thing about him. Everything else felt almost alien. A dusty, sun-dulled red suit covered in gashes and riddled with holes. Pieces of it peeling away flopped about with each step, doing little to hide the numerous scars of varying shapes and sizes covering his body. The goggles now atop his head were dented around the frames, though still largely intact. The right lens had a few shards missing from the middle, the left a spiderweb of cracks across it, and the red tint looked to have faded, leaving different colored splotches across each fracture.

The man talked to himself the whole time they walked at varied volumes, though shouting seemed to be the most common. None of it made any sense to Stone - mostly it sounded like either technobabble or utter madness. He tuned it out, for the most part, besides catching fragments of sentences when the stranger was comprehensible for a brief flash. Or in front of him.

He wasn’t sure how he felt when he heard “planet”, “real”, and “mushrooms” so close to each other in one of those ceaseless sentences.

Stone had texted Irene almost as soon as they had started walking, warning her of the impromptu guest and his... excitable personality. He hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen perfectly in step behind the stranger, almost walking into him when he stopped, as though expecting him to know the way. How could he? This was  _ his  _ house, not the lab.

It wasn’t like he’d ever been there before.

He hurried up the steps before the man, opening the unlocked front door with a sheepish grin. Irene greeted them both with a smile and their guest with a fresh cup of hot chocolate. She pointed him to the dining room while Stone grabbed a few bowls out for the simmering stew on the stove.

“Thank you,” he said as he turned back to face her, “I know it’s really short notice - especially at someone else’s house. I appreciate you pulling all this together so fast.”

“Hey. It’s no trouble at all. Just glad it’s my turn to make dinner!” she giggled. “So... what,” she continued, voice laced with concern now as she glanced back at the stranger for a moment, “this guy was just out in the street? Wearing  _ that?”  _ Stone shrugged. “I mean, I get  _ why _ you brought him here, but why?”

Stone spread his hands with a shake of his head. “I just felt like I should. Didn’t seem like he’d been out there long - wasn’t even cold - but still seemed lost, so I figured I should at least make sure he was okay.” He moved to continue getting the food ready when he remembered what he’d been hearing on the way in. “He _was_ saying something about mushrooms and planets on the way in though. I wouldn’t be surprised if I just picked up a junkie. He got really interested in my hand when I first offered to bring him back here, and there’s no way someone whose facial hair looks like _that_ is clean.”

An amused snort from Irene as she spooned hot stew into three bowls. “Well, whatever kind of person he is, I’m glad  _ you  _ found him before anyone else did. You did the right thing in bringing him here. You have a good heart, Daniel. You always have.”

He smiled gratefully as they moved everything from the kitchen to the dining table. The finishing touches of steaming bowls set in front of each place. One for Irene, one for Stone, and one for the strange guest between them.


	4. ZMP technique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Zero Movement Point (ZMP) algorithm used to cancel out all external forces acting on the bot so there is no moment. This simulation of "walking" is reminiscent of humans, but not exact.

The visitor in question had been sitting down, glaring daggers into his empty cup and still showing no signs of stopping his ongoing chatter. Thankfully, he did seem more relaxed than earlier, more comfortable sitting down at the table and less likely to leap from it and parade around the room spouting more nonsense Stone couldn’t possibly  _ begin _ to follow. Still, an empty cup is the sign of a bad host, so Stone offered to refill it for him, to which the visitor simply paused for a moment, nodded, and held out the cup as he began talking once more. 

Once returned, the cup was roughly grabbed, nearly spilling the drink inside, and drank from in large, heavy gulps as to a man lost in a desert upon an oasis. After a moment, the man seemed to catch himself, possibly from the heat of the hot chocolate, possibly from remembering he was in the presence of other people, or maybe he just realized he  _ didn’t  _ have to take as much as he could get before it vanished this time. Whatever the reason, he seemed caught between chugging the drink in as little time as possible and savoring the taste, taking his time to sip slowly and outstretched, alternating between them both in between setting the cup down in frustration and glaring at it again for a moment before picking it up again and starting the whole thing over.

Stone chose to overlook the apparent lack of table manners and instead sit down to start eating, commenting only “Told you it was good” with a grin.

Dinner progressed normally, some snippets of conversation here and there, mostly back and forth about the other person’s day and work. A few minutes following the idle small talk, Irene turned towards their guest.

“So Daniel tells me you were outside in this weather before he decided to bring you home - and you weren’t cold?” The man looked confused, glancing towards Stone incredulously as though whatever it was he did to incite this look was incredibly stupid indeed. A questioning hum from Irene snapped his attention away from Stone and drew it back to her question, to which he simply nodded, eyes darting back to Stone as he did. “That’s pretty impressive, Mr...?”

“Doctor,” he corrected quickly, unthinkingly, as though used to the misconception. He continued talking to himself the whole time, somehow, quieter now, only raising his voice enough for the other two to properly hear when speaking directly to them. “Doctor Robotnik. I haven’t been long. Outside a long time, but not here. Haven’t been here long at all. Been a long time since I’ve been here.”

“Oh, are you from around here then? Come to visit for the holidays?” It would be unusual that they not know him - such a small town means most everyone knows everyone. 

He laughed a high, barking, crazed thing that tilted the mood sideways. Suddenly, it didn’t seem quite so light anymore. His laugh creaked and dissolved into coughing like he’d forgotten properly how. Even his cough was wheezing, though deep within his chest it sounded like the last dying sound of a once-playful dog toy. He calmed, looking between the two of them, playing a game only he knew the rules. “Maybe.”

All of his answers were like this, short and sharp and to the point, through grit teeth in a low tone that could easily be read as tired if he didn’t seem so energetic at the same time. They learn a bit more over the course of dinner: that he’s an engineer with an absurd number of PhDs, though specializes in robotics. He’s been out on holiday for some time due to a kind of workplace rivalry? It’s hard to tell for sure, really. Many of the answers are cryptic at best, quite a few met with little more than an amused cynical laugh. The shredded clothing is apparently the remnants of a flight suit, and the mustache is intentional. He cracks a wry, dry smile when asked what happened to the suit and why he’s wearing it again, especially on holiday.

“You said you were out here for a reason earlier, right?” Stone asks as Irene clears their dishes, “visiting or work or something? Which one?”

Robotnik turns his bitter gaze across the table. “Please, Agent Stone, do try to remind me why I kept you around so long, I would hate to have to suffer through another 3 years of half-brained morons to find someone half as competent as you were once a week. There’s nothing here in this useless, good-for-nothing, nonexistent excuse for a town that would be useful or practical for me in this current state. I’ve been gone for an extended period, I understand, but don’t you dare say my absence has ruined any singular mite of intelligence you might’ve had before I was so rudely transported to that disgusting place. No, there’s only one thing here for me, Stone.” His eyes had been roaming as he spoke, taking in the house, the people, and especially Stone. The Doctor had seemed especially interested in his confusion. Now, those narrowed eyes met his directly for the first time that night. 

“I’m here for  _ you. _ ”

To say that made him uncomfortable was a bit of an understatement, but Stone tried his best not to let it show too much. He smiled tightly, and offered Robotnik another drink, if only so he could get out of that room for a bit. That was weird. Very weird. And creepy. He’s here for  _ him? _ What does that even mean? Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this guy into their house. He was so distant, and yet seemed to suggest they should know all the answers already! And why did Stone feel so unconcerned about it all? Sure, he was a little spooked right now, but it never crossed his mind that he should ask the doctor to leave or that he was in any real danger. Robotnik had been giving Stone looks all evening, starting off incredibly irritated, although that look seemed to have lost its bite as time went on. By the end of dinner it had softened into something Stone didn’t dare say reminded him of masked concern. It was disconcerting, to say the least. 

“You really think it was a good idea to bring him here?” He glanced back over his shoulder, hoping the distance was enough to muffle their voices, “he just said the whole reason he was in town for was  _ me. _ ”

Irene frowned, shifting a step closer as she troubled the thought. “It’s strange, sure, but I doubt he meant anything by it. He was probably just trying to thank you for picking him up is all. He doesn’t seem like he gets out much, y’know?”

Stone nodded slowly, choosing to believe this particular thought rather than entertain any others. “I’ll at least see if he needs a ride home. Not letting him back out there by himself like that, especially now. Thanks again for dinner, hun.” Irene gave him a charmed smile and thumbs up with very soapy hands, reassuring him enough to go back in the dining room with the doctor, at least for a moment. 

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the hot chocolate and could join us for dinner, Doctor. Can I give you a ride anywhere? I’d feel bad letting you walk anywhere out there by now, with the temperature so low...”

Robotnik snickered for a moment and pushed himself back, standing up to his full height and staring down at the smaller man. “Agent Stone, you of all people should know I would have nowhere to go now. Those morons will have cleared out everything they can get their grimy little hands on and hidden the lab beyond our reach for the moment.” He paused, thinking for a moment, “I do have a house actually, in Nebraska. Not sure why, since I never use it, but it would be far too long a trip for us to attempt tonight anyway.”

The confusion finally settled for a moment to let the frustration seep through, and Stone let it edge into his voice, just as much as he dared. “Alright, we’ll ignore the fact that you live somewhere other than your house for a moment and focus on the other thing right now. How do you know my name? And why do you keep calling me ‘Agent’? I’m no agent, I’m a telemarketer! I sell people things they don’t need over the phone! I have been for 20 years! Are you sure you’re okay?”

Robotnik freezes and he zeroes in on Stone, eyes narrowed and starting to raise one arm to his side. Stone’s breath catches in his throat and he thinks for a moment the man is going to hurt him, but the arm falls back down. He instead chooses to move a few steps closer, stalking around the table until he’s nearly nose-to-nose with Stone, snapping at him in a quiet, shaky voice as though he’s trying not to raise it too much. Still, the face is contorted and there’s a new fury there that seems out of place considering how calm the man seemed just moments ago.

“Am I okay? Stone, what kind of idiotic question is that. I’m here, and I’m alive sure, but am I okay? No of  _ course  _ I’m not ‘okay’, Stone. I’ve been living on a different  _ planet  _ for over 10 months! 10 months, 7 days, and 13 hours with nothing to see but  _ mushrooms  _ and no realistic way to get back here after that damned hedgehog somehow managed to limit the power in that quill - which has been completely destroyed from the trip, I might add - along with my ship, leaving me with no resources whatsoever aside from  _ fungus.  _ Still, as I predicted, back before Christmas and with those governmental numbskulls none the wiser, even despite all the failed prototypes. All planets are no match for my superior intellect, so even travel between them is simple to my mind given absolute necessity to work for it. Even so, I spend this amount of time to get back here so I can finally destroy that insufferable rodent, only to find that my most trustworthy - and only competent - assistant has not only not been looking for me,  _ he’s completely forgotten I exist.  _ I know your new life is cushy and safe, Stone, what with your painfully pedestrian stylism, your disposable nonsense job with all those blind idiots so many  _ miles  _ below you, and your flouncy little 50s girlfriend who can’t seem to take a hint; but I never thought your life could get so comfortable that you would have the  _ nerve  _ to find it  _ easy  _ to leave me out of it. And not only that, but to pretend I never existed in the first place! You are a machine, Agent Stone. It was the  _ one thing  _ I always respected about you. But even my machines know who created them. Maybe I should have installed something on you too, so you couldn’t wipe your memory of the one boss who's been signing your paychecks for three years, which if I may remind you, is longer than they’ve  _ ever  _ been signed for anybody else. I took you with me for over three years, and it took you less than 10 months to forget all that. I thought higher of you, Stone. But you’re just as bad as those blathering government generals and soldiers, attention span extending about as far as you can point a gun. Tossing me aside like I was just another failed experiment as quickly as they did...”

Robotnik slowed for a moment, eyes widening just a fraction before being overtaken again by  _ whatever  _ it was he was on about. A bit more lively than before though, an extra spark and flash in his movements now.

“You have no idea what it’s like to live on a planet where you’re the only sentient life. I knew already living with humans was insufferable, but even the most miserable scum imaginable like you aren’t the only things inhabiting the entire planet! As soon as I annihilate that ridiculous creature, I’m removing mushrooms from this world entirely. I’m going to make sure nobody remembers they existed.” He leans back finally, peering closely at Stone for a moment as he says the last line, but spins and backs off upon receiving no new reaction. 

“So you’ll be staying the night, then.”

Robotnik glances over his shoulder, much of his composure regained save for some smoldering irritation still burning away somewhere. “Obviously. And I’ll need a change of clothes. I’ll have the Badniks destroy this once we get the lab back.”

Stone didn’t pretend to understand what Robotnik was going on about, so he just nodded instead, heaving a suffering sigh as he showed the doctor up to the spare guest room. He was grateful Robotnik was so eager to shower, the stench was starting to make him nauseous. He left a change of clothes on the bed.

This was going to be very strange, whatever it was. His house was in Nebraska? And he didn’t actually live in it. And what on  _ Earth  _ was he going on about in that rant of his? Lingering in the back of his mind was the sense that all was well, or at least it would be. That was the most frightening thing. This guy had gotten up in his face and basically threatened him for five minutes, raving like a lunatic, and Stone never once thought to take even the smallest step back. It was a lot to process. 

There did seem to be some truth in it though, scattered in with the madness. The sheriff talked about his son starting school soon, Stone recalled seeing him and his wife with a blue... creature around town a few times. He supposed it  _ could  _ be a hedgehog if he didn’t think about it too much. Either way, it was clearly a kid, and didn’t really seem much like the fighting type anyway. Yeah, those mushrooms were definitely drugs. Maybe he should suggest a helpline or something? The guy said he’d been getting kicks like these for almost a full year... but he also said he wanted to get rid of them, which seemed like a good first step to getting over it.

The strangest thing was the way he kept going back to that whole ‘assistant’ thing, saying he’d been gone for 10 months and that Stone should have been looking for him. Stone had never met the man before today, and certainly hadn’t ever worked another job in his life. Sure, he’d had a few part-time jobs throughout high school and college, mostly bussing tables or helping hysterical 40-year-old women find his manager when they demanded to be sold coffee at a clothing store. 

Most likely, this guy had confused him for someone else and they just needed to get him back where he belonged. He seemed to really trust whoever this other person was too, given how comfortable he apparently was getting up in Stone’s personal space like that. Robotnik had mentioned working for the government, so he  _ definitely  _ had Stone mistaken for somebody else. The closest Stone had ever gotten to anything government-related was when he ignored the ROTC recruits challenging him to do pullups on the gross, sweaty bars by the lunchroom throughout highschool. Stone took comfort in the fact that this whole thing would sort itself out in a few days, at least until they could get this guy back home.

He checked in on the Doctor one last time before heading up to bed, knocking softly on the door. “Everything alright, Doctor?”

Robotnik shifted under the covers until he was comfortable, “fine, thank you Stone. Your hospitality is acceptable. I’ll expect the same in the morning.”

“Um, okay.” oh yes, this was going to be a  _ very  _ interesting few days. “Goodnight, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Been a minute (especially for quarantine). Trust me - construction is a really fun job, but also exhausting. I'm very tired. This really isn't even a chapter I've written recently - just one I edited in the past hour to make sense of. Currently working on making sure this will all line up properly which might take a few tries, but I'm close! Got most everything lined up and figuring it out as I go. Thank you so much for your patience and for reading!!


	5. Gestures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An operation of a robot copying a human to understand the correlation between a gesture and what it is applied to when used to aid in verbal descriptions. A significant part of interaction between humans and robots.

The next morning arrived the same as it ever did. Cold sunlight on Stone’s face, waking him near-instantly as his hand automatically reached out towards the bedside table, grasping for something he didn’t expect to find. His reach relaxed unconsciously as he came to fuller awareness, blinking in confusion at the scent drifting into his room from the kitchen below. Stone ignored it for the moment, savoring a few indulgent seconds of warmth under the blankets, already feeling the chill seeping through them at his neck. He still had work today, so he didn’t stay long, stretching and reluctantly rising. 

Stone’s nose wrinkled as he opened the door, smelling down the hall the scent of burnt toast and eggs, both were  _ definitely  _ not Irene’s cooking. But that didn’t make sense, there wasn’t anyone else here, right? And Irene had gone home last night too, not too long after dinner with-- oh,  _ right.  _ This morning was  _ not  _ the same as it ever was. This morning, someone else had evidently decided to cook food and, while it’s burnt, has placed it on the table all the same. Mostly. This morning, someone else is dressed in loose sweats and a faded Crush 40 tee swallowing said breakfast faster than he could possibly be chewing it. At least three eggs and four pieces of toast shoveled down his gullet as fast as his hands would allow, a carton of juice sitting tipped over on the counter - clearly empty - brought to his lips to catch the last straggling droplets before disgruntledly being tossed aside in favor of more eggs. It’s a mess, and this someone doesn’t seem remotely bothered by it. 

Stone could do little more than stare at this display, entirely taken aback, until the doctor glances up at him expectantly, pausing for a moment to gesture towards the table with an inclined sound of “well?” which was hesitantly accepted. He decided to deal with… whatever all this is after eating, There was a small plate left for him with a few burnt pieces of everything left on it, tossed haphazardly towards his place setting so the eggs were drooping precariously over the edge. Robotnik paid no more attention to him as Stone ate what he could stomach, washing it down with a glass of milk and a grimace.

“Excuse me, doctor,” he started irritatedly, having given the table a once-over and having since turned back towards the man who was currently raiding the cabinets and had found himself quite happily surrounded by wrappers of all kinds. Stone planted his feet in front of him, crunching plastic beneath them, and felt his eye twitch at the mess. Hopefully standing above Robotnik might help regain some of the power he’d apparently lost here somehow. “I understand we took you in last night with open arms, but please consider this a complete breach of my hospitality.” 

The doctor raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Big words, Agent Stone. I wasn’t sure you could still construct those with how simple everything else in your life is, now.”

“You may be a guest, but this is unacceptable! You’re completely trashing my house for no good reason except you got the munchies after your little trip last night? I want to help you Dr. Robotnik, but I’m almost convinced I should kick you out my door right now for some other poor bastard to deal with. I’ve been nice enough to you, but this is altogether too far and I’m not about to pretend I don’t notice.”

Robotnik keeps his eye, hands still unwrapping and lifting food to his mouth with all the efficiency of a factory machine put in reverse. His mustache twitches in what was probably a sneer if it hadn’t been completely obscured, and rolls his eyes. He stops for a moment - and finally chews some of the eight different things in his mouth right now that are the whole reason his cheeks bulge out like some chipmunk stuffed full of nuts - and gathers up all the wrappers on the floor. He dumps them all into a nearby garbage can and spreads his arms, practically dripping with pure sarcasm as he inclines his head in a silent “happy now?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, turning back to the pantry and starting the whole process over. 

Stone was absolutely flabbergasted. He tried a few times to start saying  _ something  _ but could do little more than stutter out a displeased exclamation while his mouth flopped uselessly like a hooked fish. Eventually, he gave up and left for work, desperately trying to wrap his head around the events of the past singular hour. An hour. An  _ hour.  _ There’s no way that was less than an hour. It felt like it should be noon already. He was a little too excited to be rid of this guy, which is why he was at least grateful to be taking him home tomorrow, rather than any later. Stone would’ve sent him on his way much sooner if there had been any car rentals nearby, or airports. Ah, the graces of small towns; they never fail to delight. 

The walk today was nearly the same as the day before. Bright and warm with a healthy nip to the air that left one’s nose and cheeks red as berries if left unattended for too long. It was still too early for everyone to be out yet, but kids being the early risers they were seemed to awaken even earlier, summoned by the blinding reflections off the last few patches of untouched snow to stomp them beneath slushy boots while shrieking in delight. Cars spray water and soggy snow up towards the sidewalk as they cruise by, mindful of the busy townfolk so near the streets, and hope the tires hold on. A few workers though make their way through the chaos, choosing to brave the sidewalks and ignore the likelihood of ruined shoes by the end of the day in favor of savouring the life that seemed to infect everything as readily as the cold.

Even so, among all the familiarity, something prickled under Stone’s collar as he walked, rising until he buried his hands in his pockets and hunkered lower into his coat, bristling as he hurried along just a bit faster. 

That same strange feeling stuck with him the whole day, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Time felt slow, the air burned like some extra element wasn’t supposed to be there, and his skin positively crackled with energy that had nowhere to go. Each ring of the phone felt like it lasted an extra second, and he only noticed his leg was bouncing when it got a cramp from the muscle strain. His manager set a hand on his shoulder and kindly instructed him to take an early break. Apparently, the whole office had noticed something was up. Cool.

He tried to school his expression into something more normal, ignoring the worried looks of his coworkers with little more than a wave in their direction as he headed towards the front. It seemed to work, given that Lydia’s only comment was a note that his break was early. Although he wouldn’t discount years of customer service could likely do wonders for teaching a person not to show their real emotions if they ever had need for it. Which was frequent.

His head cleared a bit as he walked, enough to notice that it had been fuzzy to the point that he really couldn’t blame the office for noticing something was off. It wasn’t like he could blame his restlessness on caffeine, the lack of bitterness in the back of his throat was proof enough that his hours-old cold coffee was still sitting back at his desk. And the fact that the sole of his left foot was starting to get sore betrayed just how long he must’ve been bouncing his leg for - he wouldn’t be surprised if it had lasted his entire shift up to now. And his hand was covered in graphite stains, like he’d been resting and dragging the side of his palm over pencil marks without any care for preserving them. He vaguely recalled moving it over his notepad as he idly waited for the next call to pick up. They didn’t, and he had taken the time between to sharpen his pencil again - again? - for the second time in three hours. Stone tilted his head back with his hands to his face, groaning in disbelief; there must be hundreds of nonsense little sketches and he couldn’t even guess what they might be! Of course everyone saw them, right there on his desk. 

_ It’s probably just stress, or excitement,  _ Stone thought as he goes to walk a little faster in some attempt to escape whatever’s happening in his head,  _ still, over what?  _ He realized then, that he  _ can’t  _ walk any faster because if he did he’d end up swiftly jogging, already near half a mile away from his job and practically at his own doorstep. It was a miracle he hadn’t run into anyone yet, even if the streets were mostly deserted. He didn’t have a destination in mind, the most he’d noticed about his surroundings was that he was now pacing back and forth between the houses on either side of his own. His thoughts drifted back to nowhere, landing every so often so he could ponder something for a moment. Eventually, a theme began to solidify across them he couldn’t help but consider. He’d been so…. what. So ‘what’, all day today? Not anxious, the doctor had some issues but Stone was fairly sure he wasn’t going to burn the house down. Excited, maybe? To get the doctor out of his hair as quickly as he could manage? Maybe. But that didn’t feel quite right either. Which was odd considering how draining Robotnik had been on Stone in the few hours he’d known the man so far. He was altogether ready to be rid of him. But excitement felt too separated from this. What was it then? Stone thought on this for a while before eventually realizing he’d gotten nowhere, lunch had come and gone, and he really should be getting back before it became a problem. This was supposed to be a quick walk to clear his head, after all. 

He finished off the day with as much work done as he could manage (which wasn’t much at all), eager to rush home with the tiredness that had seized him so quickly just an hour ago. Still, he swore to the office he hadn’t caught anything, and even if he had, he’d call in so it wasn’t spread. He almost sprinted out the door, still caught up in that strange energy from before. It had kept the clock slow all day, even when his energy finally sapped and he found himself struggling to stay upright. His notepad was now more of a sketchbook, little doodles covering numerous pages, of anything and everything in his vision, and even some that weren’t. He’d made a few more calls after getting back, though he couldn’t recall a single one of them. Thankfully his foot felt better now, so the jittering must have calmed some. Even so, this day had felt something around the length of a full normal week - Stone couldn’t be more thankful it was Friday. The walk home was much warmer than this morning (although the coat stayed on), and better yet, no strange figures standing in shadows to make his dinner any more frantic than he suspected it would be already, fantastic! That, at least, was a win. 

Stone sighed in relief when he got home to find it still intact, at least from the outside. He wasn’t sure exactly what he expected when he got inside, but he dully noted a lack of surprise to find it an absolute disaster. He was tired enough already, so the most he did was heave a breath and set his things down nearby, already rubbing his forehead as he made his way to the kitchen. Thankfully, the odd feeling was starting to ebb away, and he swore he felt the electricity beneath his skin settle when he heard Robotnik in one of the nearby rooms. He paid no mind to it, already occupied with food and the mess surrounding him, and it hadn’t been too much of an issue since he’d arrived, so he marked it down as no big deal. Dinner was simple tonight, and thankfully a rather quiet affair. Eating with the doctor didn’t make it any cleaner, nor did it do well for his already tired state, though. Stone promised himself he’d clean it up before going to bed when he got back tomorrow. 

For the moment, he tried to play a good host and interact with his guest. He recalled a mention of robotics from the night before and decided to ask around the subject, see if the doctor was interested in his line of work or if it was just good work for him. Apparently, Robotnik was interested in his job. He was  _ very  _ interested in his job. The simple question turned into an 80-minute long lecture that made Stone feel like he really should be sitting at a desk rather than a dinner table. Everything the man was saying was comically foreign to him, but Stone was fascinated nonetheless. It was simply another language, and despite its difficulty, Stone felt some energy return to his limbs, encouraging him to listen further and try to at least puzzle out  _ some  _ of what was being said. Robotnik got more animated as he went on, arms gesturing wildly as he spoke, hands twisting into all manner of shapes as though miming his equations would help Stone understand whatever particularly complex thing he was onto now any better. His voice occasionally grew peppered with emotion, brimming with vigor and excitement, bursting with the last scraps of his self-control to avoid shouting. There was an undeniable touch of fondness, too, obscured beneath insults towards the human race and praises of the simplicities of robotics, but there all the same. What fascinated Stone the most, however - because he could in no way deny his fascination, especially now - were the doctor’s eyes. At first dull and glassy as he pretended to be interested in Stone’s feeble attempts at dinner conversation rather akin to some petulant child forced into the space, they now positively blazed with all the power of the sun. They had come to life as the doctor spoke, darting about the room, landing frequently between Stone and Robotnik’s own hands before switching back to the other. They were so different from the man Stone had met just last night, now laser-focused and sharp, sparkling with energy and intelligence far beyond anything Stone could possibly even  _ begin  _ to comprehend, let alone imagine. 

It was beautiful, really. Stone found himself entranced and almost disappointed when the doctor finally exhausted himself and fell back into his chair with an audible sound as it tipped backward a few inches before correcting itself back to all four legs.

“You, uh.” He cleared his throat, coming back into himself after what he could only describe as a performance. “Don’t get to do that much, do you, Doctor?”

Robotnik set his glass back on the table with a soft thump, glaring now as though he had just been delivered an unspeakable insult. “Stone, if I even had the mind to reprimand the audacity it takes to ask such a simple, useless question, why  _ exactly  _ do you think I would dignify it with an answer?” 

Stone is still exhausted, still distant, and still distracted, so he doesn’t notice what happens when his absent response in his confusion is, “I- sir?”

The doctor starts, microscopically, eyes back on Stone’s face, darting over his features. His face leans hopeful, for half a heartbeat, but falls again when he finds nothing but the same confused look, unchanging from a moment ago. He drops his gaze, seemingly disappointed as he looks away again, muttering, “it’s an entirely understimulating topic of conversation, Agent Stone. A simple yes or no answer, which would allow me to theoretically expand on if I wished, but - just like the weather - has no real or lasting effect on my daily life beyond A: the immediate moment or B: my relationship with anyone who asks. And as such it leads to only one inevitable conclusion - a pointless dead-ended conversation which could just as easily have been avoided entirely with no alternative eventuality. It’s small talk, Stone, nothing more. Pointless and juvenile.”

“Oh… well alright then.” Stone felt at least some glimmer of certainty they could’ve had a real conversation if the doctor had just answered his question, rather than dragging it to the ground and killing the whole mood, plunging the silence into something stiflingly awkward that had been fully absent up to that point. “I was just saying because most people don’t usually get a chance to talk about their passions, and those who do get tired of it rather quickly. You seemed really excited and like you were enjoying talking about it… whatever it was about robotics you were saying.”

Robotnik huffs, though the irritated malice that seems to simmer just under the surface felt slightly deeper now. “Observant as ever, Agent Stone.”

He clearly was disinterested in anything more to be said, at least for now, so Stone left the doctor to his own devices, let him devolve into his subdued mutterings for the rest of dinner and who knows how long beyond.

He texted Irene before heading to bed, having ensured everything was in place for the trip tomorrow, and wished Robotnik goodnight. The doctor had been in the darkened living room, eyes darting back and forth, seeing things invisible to Aban, with fingers pressed tightly together and muttering things softly under his breath. A noise of acknowledgment was the most Stone received before the doctor was lost back to his own world again, and left to his own as his host retreated upstairs.

**Hey, sorry I have to give up our day tomorrow just to drive this guy all the way back to Nebraska… I know you really enjoy our Saturdays together.**

He added an apologetic emoji, having noted she was quieter than usual today, as she was when she was upset about something, silent in her own sort of apology.

**It’s no problem, really! You know I like some quiet sometimes, especially after a long week. I love our Saturdays, but we have them every week, and I’m not expecting the world to end between now and our next one, so it’s fine.**

She responded with a smiling emoji, reassuring, he thought, trying to brighten him, obviously reading the mood. And an additional message a moment later:

**I’m glad I can count on you to get him home safe.**

Stone’s heart swelled, fondly.

**Thanks. You’re sweet, tomorrow’s gonna be long…**

**I’ll let you sleep, then. Gnight Ostrich**

**Night**

  
  


Even with the promise of sleep and exhaustion weighing heavy on him all day, Stone found it near-impossible to fall asleep that night. At least not nearly as quickly as he was used to. Why, he couldn’t tell, but for some reason energy was lurking inside his veins, making him antsy. He closed his eyes, he stared at the darkened ceiling, he listened to the sounds around him. Nothing worked. His mind wasn’t exactly silent, but it wasn’t distracting either. He was comfortable, neither too warm nor too cold. He had nothing to worry about, everything was under control and taken care of. Everything was  _ fine.  _ Nothing had happened today that should have sparked such a reaction in him.

So why did his stomach feel so tight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I'm now 75k words into my outline for this fic and I'm less than halfway through. I've changed So Much, but I'm happy with what I'm coming up with! Got mildly distracted by a new interest, and the fact that they're so similar really threw me for a loop but I do find it fun. Back soon with more, see y'all soon. Thank you so much!!


End file.
